Endurance
by moon71
Summary: During a camping trip, Hephaestion finally runs out of patience with Alexander and the lovers have to face up to the reality of what it means to be in love. Alexander x Hephaistion


**ENDURANCE by Moon71**

**SUMMARY: **During a camping trip, Hephaestion confronts Alexander and the young lovers have to face up to the more difficult side of being in love.

**DISCLAIMER: **Don't own anything to do with this, sadly not even Golden; though I created him I haven't anywhere to keep him in my city so he's out in the country somewhere.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **This story has a long history so stick with me. I wrote it in one go after reading Qadaffi the Ripper's excellent story "Blind Silence." Then I read it back a few weeks later and decided it was just too close to that story, so I emailed it to Qadaffi who read it, edited it very sympathetically and assured me the resemblance was largely in my mind. Personally I _still_ think it's a bit too close for comfort, but judge for yourselves – if you don't know Qadaffi's stories, I highly recommend them. They were the first stories that inspired me to start writing my own. This site won't let me give the site address but email me direct and I'm only too happy to pass it on.

**DEDICATION: **To Qadaffi the Ripper, with lots of love and lots of gratitude.

* * *

It was supposed to be the best fun they had ever had. They had talked of little else since their begging, pleading and promises to bring back as many specimens as they could find had finally borne fruit and Aristotle had agreed to let them go; they had made such complex plans designed not to waste a moment of precious time, written long lists of things to do and things to take, packed and repacked their baggage.

The day had begun as sweetly as any day could for Hephaestion – Alexander, who was still slightly ambivalent about their new status as lovers as well as friends, had surprised and delighted him by waking him with a kiss, a warm embrace and a declaration of love. It had taken all of Hephaestion's willpower to resist pulling the blonde haired prince down into his bed and forsaking their camping excursion altogether.

He had felt a slight foreboding the moment the letter had arrived. "Forget about it, Alexander," he had said quickly, "read it when you come back."

"Yes, of course," Alexander had said, but his gaze had been fixed upon it. "Will you go and get the horses? I'll get the food and meet you in the courtyard."

Hephaestion had wanted to protest, but had kept silent and headed out. When he had returned with Bucephalus and his own horse, Golden, a gift from his parents when he had left for Mieza, Alexander was sitting on the low wall edging the grounds. Hephaestion smiled at him, but Alexander did not smile back; he simply rose and began to strap his baggage onto Bucephalus. Hephaestion decided to ignore the sudden change, telling himself it would be better once they were underway. He occupied himself with mounting Golden and stroking his sandy coloured mane. Bucephalus might be the most magnificent horse in Macedon, but Hephaestion secretly thought Golden the prettiest.

They rode for several hours before setting up camp in the hills; throughout the journey Alexander remained quiet and subdued, speaking only in response to a question or comment from Hephaestion. Hephaestion was determined it shouldn't ruin their trip, telling himself whenever Alexander's sullen mood provoked him that surely once they were far enough away from Mieza – and Pella – Alexander would start to feel better. Hephaestion suggested they try hunting for rabbits and Alexander agreed readily enough, in fact seemed eager to the point of savagery. When they succeeded in catching nothing, Alexander's mood darkened further and he said absolutely nothing to Hephaestion while they set about building a campfire and unpacking some of the food they had brought from Mieza. Hephaestion noticed that Alexander ate very little.

As the silence grew almost unbearable, Hephaestion decided that pretending nothing was wrong was not the answer. He already suspected he knew what was wrong; only one thing could have upset Alexander this much so quickly. For a moment he was overcome by a surge of anger. Why couldn't Alexander have done what he asked? Why couldn't it have waited until they got back? But he told himself he was being selfish and he pushed such recriminations to the back of his mind. Things weren't the same for Alexander as they were for him; Hephaestion was the son of nobleman, but he wasn't a prince. Perhaps all Alexander needed was a little loving.

Hephaestion reached out and slipped his arms around Alexander, trying to draw him close, but Alexander was unyielding. When Hephaestion tried to kiss him he turned his head away. "Alexander…?" Hephaestion murmured, half a question, half a plea.

"I'm not in the mood for it, Hephaestion!"

Hephaestion stared at him, deeply hurt. "I wasn't trying to…to _start_ anything… I just thought you might need me to hold you for a little while!"

Alexander frowned, staring into the fire. Hephaestion could almost feel the tension resonating from his body. "I don't need anything," he said coldly.

"Do you – " Hephaestion swallowed, forced himself to remain calm. "Would you rather go back to Mieza?"

"Would you?" Alexander looked at him for the first time since they had left their school. His grey eyes were harsh in their intensity, they seemed to accuse and dismiss Hephaestion all at once.

"No!" Hephaestion protested, embarrassed to find himself on the verge of tears.

"You can go if you want to," Alexander persisted mercilessly, "I don't mind."

"I don't want to!"

For what seemed an age, Alexander continued to stare at him; then he looked away, the rigidity of his features softening very slightly. Then he got to his feet, collected his spear and began to move away from their camp.

"Where are you going?" Hephaestion asked before he could stop himself.

"Just for a walk," came the monotone reply.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No."

Feeling sick with disappointment and worry, Hephaestion watched him go. Left with only Bucephalus, Golden and his own unhappy thoughts for company, he busied himself with physical work. He groomed both the horses though they didn't need it, collected more wood for the fire, took up his spear and, as the light began to fade and the local fauna became more active, managed to catch two rabbits of quite decent plumpness, skinning and preparing them and singing to himself as he did so for the sake of hearing another human voice. He had never thought he could feel so lonely after only a few hours, even out here in the hills. For something to do, he laid out his bedroll, then laid Alexander's close beside it. Then he threw the extra furs he had packed, despite Alexander's teasing, over both.

Hephaestion started violently as a cold hand was laid upon his shoulder. He had not even heard Alexander approach. "Alexander, you're freezing, come here!" Hephaestion reacted instinctively as he saw the ghostly whiteness of his lover's skin, the tight, shrunken posture of his slender body. Still Alexander resisted Hephaestion's attempts to take him in his arms, consenting only to move closer to the fire and eat a small portion of the meat he had cooked.

"You're a good hunter, Hephaestion," Alexander said softly as he accepted the wineskin Hephaestion passed him. "I still didn't manage to catch anything."

"It's just luck," Hephaestion replied lamely, wracking his brains for something to say which would keep the conversation going.

"It's not about luck," Alexander said tonelessly, "it's about patience and discipline. One has to learn discipline."

Hephaestion suppressed a groan. He did not want to talk about this yet again, about endurance, about pushing oneself to the limit, about going without. He was tired of this Spartan doctrine surfacing to spoil their fun whenever Alexander felt he had let himself down. Why was it whenever something went wrong, the root of it had to lie in some weakness of Alexander's? And above all, why did Hephaestion have to be made to feel he himself was one of those weaknesses? Couldn't Alexander just be happy to have him, to be loved by him? Couldn't he just – Hephaestion hesitated at the thought, but let it surface anyway – be _grateful_ for him? Grateful for their love? It was another stupid, selfish idea, yet Hephaestion was not as ashamed of it as he thought he ought to be.

"It's freezing, even with the fire," Hephaestion observed, "let's go to bed." Slowly, deliberately, he undressed, shedding even his loincloth, watching as Alexander did the same, then slid into his bedroll, pulling the blanket close about himself. Alexander lay down beside him, but made no attempt to move closer; he rolled over onto his side, away from Hephaestion, irritably pushing away the fur covering when Hephaestion tried to share it with him, shrugging off the arm Hephaestion slipped around him.

That was too much for Hephaestion. He turned his back on Alexander and pulled the furs over his head, burying his face in them to muffle the sound as he choked down his tears, determined Alexander should not discover him crying like a baby. So much for their wonderful adventure! So much for his dreams of spending a deliciously scary but romantic night beneath the stars, wrapped in Alexander's arms after they had made love in the firelight. He couldn't stand another day out here; if Alexander wanted to wallow in his own misery, let him do it in Mieza, where at least it was warm and safe! If Alexander wanted to stay out here and endure, then he could do it alone. Hephaestion didn't care if he froze to death!

He did not know how long he lay there, shivering and alternating between anger, frustration, sadness and guilt, but finally he could stand it no longer. "Alexander, this is stupid," he snapped, sitting up and grabbing his friend roughly by the shoulder, "if you don't feel like talking to me that's fine, but whatever's wrong, neither of us deserves to die from cold. Come on, let's share our blankets and – "

"It's not that cold," Alexander cut in, his words rendered absurd by the chattering of his teeth.

"Alexander, its _freezing!"_

"One should be able to endure cold…"

"Alright, but at least share the furs – "

"Leave me alone, Hephaestion, I don't need warmth!"

"_Fine!"_ Hephaestion could barely feel the cold now for the absolute fury heating his blood. It suddenly seemed that every petty frustration, every thwarted desire or hope denied boiled up inside him. Nothing would ever make him good enough for Alexander, never once would Alexander acknowledge Hephaestion right and himself wrong; never would he be satisfied with himself, with Hephaestion; with their love. Hephaestion would always remind him that he was weak, that he had the same desires as any other youth, that he was, after all, only human. And Hephaestion was sick of apologising for it in everything he did and said. "That's_ wonderful," _he nearly screamed across the small space between them,_ "_I'm sovery_ happy _for you!_ Long live Prince Perfect, son of the great King Philip! _Well I'm just stupid, vulgar, weak, hedonistic Hephaestion son of Amyntor and I _do_ need warmth! I need _warmth,_ I need _comfort,_ I need _companionship_ and I need _love!_ So just for once, just for _once,_ stop thinking of yourself, get over here and _help me keep warm!"_

Alexander sat up in a flash, his eyes wide and glinting in the glow of the fire. "Hephaestion – "

"_I said get over here!"_

"But – "

"_NOW!"_

Alexander jumped out of his blanket with the speed of a startled cat and skidded under Hephaestion's without another word, settling meekly into his embrace as Hephaestion pulled the furs over both of them, forced Alexander to accept a bruisingly harsh kiss on the lips and pressed him close to his chest with a roughness more akin to chastisement than love.

They lay together for a long time in complete silence.

As Hephaestion's almost hysterical rage gradually began to cool, he found himself unable to stop trembling. What had he just _done?_ How could he have spoken that way to Alexander? Why had Alexander let him – surely he wasn't actually afraid Hephaestion would hurt him? Whatever the truth of it, Alexander would certainly hate him now, he couldn't stand anyone making fun of him like that, especially when it came to the possibility of his divine paternity; nor, as a prince, was he used to being ordered about by someone barely a year or two his senior. Hephaestion closed his eyes tightly, once again fighting tears, longing to escape yet at the same time enthralled by the warmth building between their bodies, the sensual delight of Alexander's bare skin against his own, the sweet scent of Alexander's hair.

Was he imagining things, or had Alexander's arms tightened around his waist? Alexander's hot breath against his neck was steady but very quick. Hephaestion's eyes snapped open as he felt something hard pressing insistently against his belly. As he inclined his head to look at his friend, Alexander kissed him.

"…Alexander…?"

"Shh…" Alexander put his finger against Hephaestion's lips. Then his hands slid down his friend's body, caressing soothingly. He found one of Hephaestion's hands, drew it out of the furs, kissed it, then guided it back down to the hardness between his legs. "Touch me," he breathed. The words and the actions suggested confidence, worldliness; yet the look in his eyes belied this. There Hephaestion could see anxiety, a need for understanding, above all a need for love. Here at last was the Alexander Hephaestion could reach. He settled his body over Alexander's smaller one, wanting only keep him safe, and touched him.

"Which one of them was it from?" Hephaestion asked as they lay close together, feeling even more like one being after their lovemaking than they had during the course of it.

A deep, shuddering sigh broke from Alexander. "Mother," he breathed.

"Who was she railing against this time?" Hephaestion could not hide the bitterness in his tone.

"No-one." Alexander sounded a little perplexed. "At least, not exactly. She didn't really seem angry at all, only… sad. She'd heard we were having these days free from our studies and that I was going hunting with you instead of coming to Pella to see her. She said that I didn't love her anymore, that I'd forgotten about her the moment I found you."

"Alexander…!" Hephaestion cried in exasperation, "you _know_ she doesn't really believe that!"

Alexander did not reply for a long time. "No, I know she's just trying to make me feel guilty. She's just frightened… frightened and jealous… and my father's just as bad… Hephaestion, I'm sorry, I've ruined everything, but even if I hadn't read the letter…"

"Alexander…" Hephaestion touched his lover's cheek, feeling warm, wet tears upon it. "It's not the fact that you read it that hurt. It's the fact that you read it and then you shut me out! I couldn't reach you, I couldn't help you and it frightened me! I love you! I'll endure anything for you or with you, but sometimes it seems as though you don't feel it, as if my love is lost on you! When you push me away like that it's as though you think I'm too dull to appreciate what you feel, or too weak to cope with it! Haven't I proved that I can do both? Haven't I earned your trust _yet?_ Or is it your respect I don't have? Or… your love? Don't you _want _to take me into your heart? Do you think I'm not worthy to be there?"

"You're in my heart, Hephaestion," Alexander cried softly, "you've already found a place in it I never thought I'd let anyone take! I trust you, I respect you and by Zeus I _love_ you!"

"Then _why…?"_

"Because she got closer to the truth than she knows! Tion, I'm afraid! I'm afraid I love you too much!"

"Alexander… how can you love someone too much?" Hephaestion scoffed gently, but panic was beginning to tighten his chest. They were wading into unknown depths and he was no longer sure of his footing.

"It weakens me! Sometimes when I'm with you… like this… nothing else seems to matter! My father, my mother… politics, warfare, even the throne of Macedon… none of it matters compared to you…! Sometimes you're all I can think about!"

Hephaestion swallowed hard, not trusting himself to speak. He should have felt warm and light with happiness at such a declaration from the prince; instead for a moment he shared Alexander's fear. "Is that…" he cleared his throat and tried again. "Is that… _really_ such a bad thing…?"

"Of course it is!" Alexander protested, his fingers digging urgently into Hephaestion's shoulders, "It's a sign of weakness, and I have to be _strong!"_

"Then combine my strength with yours," Hephaestion replied softly but firmly, realising even as he spoke just what he was committing himself to, but knowing it was far too late for either of them to back away. "Whenever you need strength, come to me, don't push me away. Love doesn't have to be a weakness! Even the gods themselves need love! Promise me, Alexander, promise me you'll never try to shut me out again!"

Alexander was silent for a moment, but Hephaestion felt the clawing fingers relax, the hands slide downwards, the arms encircle him in a tight embrace. "All right, I'll promise…" he sniffed, "but only if you promise something in return."

Hephaestion leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Alexander's lips. "Name it, my beloved friend…"

Hephaestion could just about make out the indignant scowl forming on Alexander's face. "Promise me you'll _never_ call me Prince Perfect again!"


End file.
